Page 68 of Party Girl: How a Naughty Omega Finds Love
I died a little that day. Granny could never find out what Mother did. She’d already lost so much. I couldn’t be the reason she lost her daughter too.
Lifting the full glass to my lips, I take a few big drinks. Tears threaten to fall, but I don’t let them.
Weak little bitch.
No.
She’s not here. She can’t hurt me. I deserved better than her growing up. I deserved someone who knew how to love like Granny did. Hayden’s scent surrounds me, and he places his hand on the small of my back. I breathe in, letting Hayden’s perfume ground me.
“Are you okay?” He stands next to me, facing the cabinets so the guys can’t see our conversation.
“I think I’m full,” I say. “Can I go lie down?”
“You don’t have to ask permission,” he says, taking the glass from my hand. “Call me selfish, but I’d love to have you sleep in my bed. Trev doesn’t deserve to have your scent all over his sheets.”
I laugh softly. “And you do?”
“I’d like to think so.” He links his fingers with mine and leads me to the bedroom. No one says anything to protest, which is a relief since a fight with Trev would ruin whatever semblance of calm I’m clinging to.
* * *
Sleep comes easy. I wake a few hours later when Hayden climbs into bed, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. The bed dips, and I roll over, lifting onto my arm.
“I’ll go to the couch,” I say.
“You’re fine,” he breathes. “You’ll keep me warm.” He scoots as close as he can without actually touching me.
“What about Trev?” I don’t really want to leave the bed. Sometimes I have to sleep alone, and other times I crave being next to someone. Tonight is one of those nights.
“Screw Trev. He’ll get over it.”
Smiling, I burrow down and tuck my hand under the pillow, staring at Hayden.
The light from the hallway is seeping through the cracks of the door, brightening the room enough I can tell he’s looking back. His mouth is pulled back in a lazy grin, and he edges closer, our legs brushing under the comforter.
“What’s your first good memory?” he asks.
“Planting flowers with Granny.” That’s easy. She was always my world.
“I’m sorry she’s gone.”
I nod, resisting the sorrow that wants to pull me under. I’m too tired to be sad. “What about you?”
“My dad took me and my mom to a theme park. I was six and I threw up.” His smile falls and he glances at the ceiling. “That was before he left.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “No. Not tonight.” Rolling back to face me, he places his hand on my hip. “Do you want to talk?”
“No,” I say, scooting even closer and burying my head against his chest. Hayden rests his chin on my head and holds me tight. “Words have no meaning anyway, remember?”
“Most of the time they don’t.” He rubs his palm over my back. “You should sleep.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I quip around a yawn.
“Not yet,” he says so softly I almost think I imagined the words.
His heart is a steady rhythm that I focus on. Hayden’s arms protect me from the rest of the world. That thunderstorm scent wraps around me and lulls me into sleep, promising a dreamless slumber. I relent and give in.
Too often my mother finds me in my dreams.
I’ll take this reprieve to gather strength for the next nightmare.
